


Ghosts (Just Wanna Be Loved)

by shahondin



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Author Hongjoong, Becoming a family, Blood, Daya the puppy, Falling In Love, Fluff, Ghost Seonghwa, Joong is chill, M/M, Mentioned suicide, More tags to be added, Sad Seonghwa, ghost au, i guess, it's not really scary, mentioned child abuse, most of the times, that's in the past tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-11-19
Packaged: 2021-01-07 09:50:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21214232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shahondin/pseuds/shahondin
Summary: "You're dumb, ghosts don't exist."orA story about Hongjoong, author with a terrible writer's block and owner of a puppy, who recently moved into a villa he inherited. What no one told him about? The ghost lingering in the corners of his new home.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write something scary and this is the result. It's not scary at all... I'll do better next time lol 
> 
> **TW: mentioned suicide! it's not described in any way but mentioned in one sentence.**

It’s an old house, obviously vacant for years, overgrown with ivy and windows dark with dirt. Hongjoong doesn’t know why his great aunt handed down her past home to him after her death a few months ago but now that he’s standing in front of the once beautiful villa in the outskirts, all thoughts of selling the house fly out of his head. 

This is an opportunity. An opportunity to let himself run wild with renovating, to form the whole place as he pleases. And to regain motivation to write again. Hopefully. When your whole income depends on your creativity and if you’re able to write a certain amount of words in the span of a few months, writer’s block and lack of motivation are the worst. 

The first book Hongjoong published last year was a success, not overly though but enough people read it to consider it as a good debut in the scene. It’s a teenage love story, a girl who’s in love with her childhood friend but only realizes her feelings when said friend in about to move abroad. Lots of pining, lots of angst and, of course, a happy ending. His publisher was satisfied and offered him a contract for a sequel that Hongjoong took in the blink of an eye. That time, his mind was overflowing with ideas and interesting plot lines. Ah, how he wished it would still be that way. Roughly 5000 words in and he stared at his laptop screen for hours, not typing a single sentence. 

That was four months ago and nothing changed since then. 

Sighing, Hongjoong pulls his jacket tighter around his frame to shield himself from the cold autumn air and enters the house. The door creaks loudly but it doesn’t collapse in front of his feet, thankfully. The inside provides the same vacant impression as the front; dirt and shattered glass everywhere, more spiderwebs than he could count and weeds growing in every corner. He’s more or less familiar with the general outline of this house due to the estate trustee showing him construction plans and photos. The main floor consists of a hallway leading to one of the two bathrooms, a storeroom and the living room that occupies more than half of the ground level. The kitchen is directly connected to the spacious room and there is a big patio door to the garden in the back of the house. Upstairs are another bathroom, two bedrooms as well as a library and a ladder to the narrow attic. 

Carefully stepping over the glass, Hongjoong enters the living room first and looks around. It definitely needs a lot of work seeing as there are only a table and an old, broken couch that's pushed against one of the walls. He’s already making a mental list of all the things he has to do, including the furniture he has to buy. Dropping his backpack in the hallway, he goes upstairs and inspects the rooms there. They look even worse, totally vacant from furniture and covered in a thick blanket of dust. The wallpaper came off of the wall at some point in the past and now pitifully lays on the ground. 

“Heads up, Hongjoong.” He murmurs to himself, forcing positive thoughts into his head as he sees what could only be the remains of a bird laying in the bathroom. He closes the door without another look. 

With his phone in his hands, Hongjoong finally writes his list down so he won’t forget anything. “Trash bags, a broom... “ He mutters to himself, adding a reminder to call the electrician to proof the wiring and make sure he has running water as well. He needs a bed and heating too if he doesn’t want to travel between his flat and the house every day.

List eventually finished, Hongjoong looks around for a last time before he makes to leave the villa again. With his foot already on the doorstep, he freezes, eyes wide as goosebumps break out on his skin. There’s something cold behind him, something that wasn’t there before. He tilts his head slowly to look over his shoulder, breath caught in his throat. However, there's nothing but the empty hallway behind him. 

… 

Once the villa is clean to some extent and he made sure electricity as well as the water pipes are intact a few days later, Hongjoong assembles his bed in one of the rooms upstairs. Now that there's no shattered glass on the ground anymore, he takes his dog with him. The Bobtail puppy named Daya stayed with his friends Yunho and Mingi for the last few days so Hongjoong could tidy up without worrying about her. 

This is how he finds himself on his makeshift sitting accommodation consisting of a bunch of pillows on the ground with his laptop on his lap. The empty document stares back at him, cursor blinking relentlessly on top of the page as if to mock him. 

He writes down a sentence, stares out of the window even though it's dark outside and he can't see anything, looks back at his document and erases everything again. Adjusting his glasses, he's about to repeat this routine again when a low growl interrupts him. 

Daya stands in front of the door leading to the hallway, ears flat against her head and teeth bared as she growls at thin air. 

"Hey girl, it's alright. There's nothing." Hongjoong calls her in a soothing voice. She whines, obviously displeased with her owner's reaction, but slowly retreats. Hongjoong pats the cushion next to him so she lays down there, eyes still fixed on the open door, a low rumble vibrating in her body. 

… 

The renovation comes along slowly. Hongjoong is set on doing any work he can on his own and only calls a professional when it's required. He starts with the bathroom downstairs which doesn't need a lot of work. He only has to clean it properly and replace a few tiles and it's done. Next is the biggest room, considering he spends most of his time there. Daya plays in the living room or outside in the yard all day long, content with the wide space to run around contrary to their small flat. From time to time, she barks playfully as if to demand Hongjoong to join her or pet her head. But she's not even nearby when she does it. 

Hongjoong watches with a small frown on his face as she wags her tail and yips, facing one of the corners. "Daya?" He's being ignored. "Daya!" He tries again, this time louder, and succeeds to get his dog's attention.

"You wanna go on a walk?" The question is met with more excited barking while she runs out to fetch her leash. Maybe she's got too much energy left and that's why she behaves so strangely. 

… 

The barking and almost aggressive albeit happy tail wagging don't cease. It's been a few days and Hongjoong just finished redecorating the walls in the living room. Everything takes more time than expected and that's a bit frustrating. He misplaced stuff a lot and has to search for his tools again and again which increases his working time immensely. 

He only stops when it's already dark outside and every bone is his body hurts. That doesn't mean he can relax though. With a bowl of ordered food on the new coffee table in front of him, he sits down on his now proper couch and places his laptop on his lap. Eden, his publisher, gave him an extension which he is grateful for, but he's still on page one. Daya has been outside almost the entire day, chasing leaves in the wind or rolling in the grass. She only comes back inside when Hongjoong already finished his noodles and rubs his tired eyes. Laying down beside him, she demands well-deserved belly rubs and kicks her legs every time Hongjoong's hand slows down. She's adorable, really, but he has to get at least 500 words done so Eden sees he's working. 

It's well into the night when Hongjoong finally saves his file with a sigh and closes the lid of his laptop. He sets his glasses aside and turns his attention on his already sleeping dog. She looks so calm and content Hongjoong knows it was the right decision to move here. Petting her belly one more time, Hongjoong's fingers brush something cold that sends a shiver down his spine immediately. It feels like his fingers freeze even though nothing changed about the warmth of Daya underneath his palm. He pulls his hand away, checks every finger and then lays his palm on the cold spot down again, a confused frown on his face. The chill, however, is gone. Everything's normal again.

Rubbing his stinging eyes, Hongjoong groans. “I should go to bed.” 

He definitely needs a good night's rest. 

… 

Being a tiny weeny bit disorganized not only leads to misplaced tools but also to skipping meals because Hongjoong just forgets to eat. Either he's too engrossed in his work or his fridge is empty save for a bottle of orange juice. He gets better at the whole renovating thing though. Tools he somehow managed to lose before are now laying in the place they're supposed to. It feels like Hongjoong has a helping hand beside him sometimes. Work is just easier and faster overall. He still forgets to eat but then an apple or the chopsticks he left laying on the kitchen counter fall to the ground and remind him to feed his grumbling stomach. He wonders why stuff in the kitchen tends to fall down but he doesn't dwell on it. Maybe it's the wind blowing in from the opened patio door. The wind has to be the reason he feels cold brushing his limbs from time to time as well.

As the days go by, the living room and kitchen are ready to be furnished. He fixed every hole on the ground, the wallpaper is replaced and the tapware shines so Hongjoong moves onto the next room. 

Now that he's got a television and internet his writing suffers greatly. Instead of 500 words a day, he only typed some sentences. He's just too exhausted at the end of the day and Netflix is oh so tempting. This is why he's not surprised at all when he wakes up one morning on the couch and not in his bed. There's a blanket safely tucked around him and Daya sleeps peacefully curled up next to his feet. He doesn't remember covering himself with the fluffy cover he usually keeps in his bedroom. Must have been a half-asleep action from him. 

He doesn't really pay it any mind when he feels a cold sensation next to him in the hallway that day even though the doors and windows are closed. Why should he? Daya is calm and happily plays with a tennis ball next to him while he's busy painting the walls. She doesn't bark a lot anymore and mostly plays with that ball instead. Sometimes she throws it across the room so hard it must bounce off a wall or something and rolls back to her. 

Maybe he should have paid more attention then he would have seen that the ball halts abruptly in the air and is tossed back to her gently. Maybe he would have seen his paint roller being picked up from the ground and placed next to the box of paint. Maybe he would have noticed that the food didn't burn when he left the stove on around lunch time. 

But he didn't notice. 

Not until he makes himself hot chocolate after a tiring but successful day and drops the cup because it was hotter than he thought it would be. He watches as it falls to the ground, already thinking about the mess he’ll have to clean up. It doesn't shatter. It doesn't even meet the kitchen tiles. The cup hovers above the ground for a moment before it is placed on the ground, not a single drop of hot chocolate spilled.

Stuff like that doesn't happen. Even if the cup would have landed perfectly intact, at least a bit of his drink would have been on the ground. No. It floated in the air. He saw it. It _floated._

Nonononono.

Daya stands a few feet away and wags her tail happily. He takes her and is out if the house in the matter of seconds. 

… 

Neither Mingi nor Yunho question why Hongjoong stands in front of their door in the middle of the night, wearing his house slippers and missing a jacket. They offer him the couch as well as a warm blanket and Hongjoong is out like a light in the matter of seconds. When he awakes the next morning, everything he was sure he saw the night before seems more like a vivid imagination. There's no such thing as floating cups. This is why, after having breakfast and chatting with his friends for a bit, Hongjoong goes back to his house, laughing about his panicked reaction from the day before. 

The cup stands on the counter next to the sink, his drink still untouched. The whole taking the cup in his hands and letting it fall thing must have been imagination. A dream. He pours the now cold chocolate in the sink and rinses the cup afterwards. This day, Hongjoong decides, is a good day to take a break from renovating and get some writing done instead. 

… 

Although he's convinced that his tired brain played a trick on him two days ago, Hongjoong can't stop thinking about it. He thinks back, tries to remember if he noticed something abnormal or strange before but his mind comes up empty. There's no use in racking his brain so Hongjoong goes on about his day like usual. He pays more attention to his surroundings though. That's why it doesn't take long for him to notice the cold that comes and goes several times, usually when he's searching for something or struggles with his renovation work. 

He comes up with suppositions about the cold, checks if the heating works properly and if the windows let in draught. It's purely by chance that he notices that one of the tools he just used and carelessly dropped to the ground afterwards lays on the table when he returns from the toilet. A week ago he would have shrugged and continued to restore the stucco on the ceiling. This day, though, he falters and stares at said tool. 

Daya scratches at the patio door and stops Hongjoong from thinking about it too much.

After another night of accidentally sleeping on the couch, Hongjoong contemplates if he should worry about his aching back. Maybe he should do sport. Or sleep in his bed for a change. 

Currently sitting on the floor in his living room, Hongjoong wants to arrange a shelf Mingi brought a few days ago, every single part scattered on the ground in front of him, construction manual in one hand, screwdriver in the other. He's about to begin when an idea pops up in his head. He musters the screwdriver for a second before a places it somewhere behind himself and tries to make it look unintentional. Withstanding the urge to peek at the tool when he stands up and leaves the room to get something to drink, Hongjoong nervously bounces on his foot balls. When he comes back, his suspicion is proved right. The screwdriver lays next to construction plan and not where he left it. He tries to stay calm, he really does, but there's _someone_ in his house. 

He whirls around, heart beating frantically in his chest, and scans the entire room, looks behind his couch, under the table, around the corners. Not a single trace of another person. 

“Daya!” His voice almost breaks at the end. Grabbing his backpack and the leash, he walks his dog outside and locks the front door with shaking hands. 

Yunho looks amused when Hongjoong knocks on his door but calls Mingi to tell him to get them one more pizza when he comes home. Hongjoong smiles, pretends that he’s not freaking out, and asks Yunho about his plans for Halloween. 

In the evening, when the three of them are gathered in front of the television, each with a slice of pizza in one hand, Hongjoong ponders if he should tell them. He does, in the end, and regrets it immediately after.

"Either you're showing early signs of dementia or there's a ghost in your house." Mingi says with wide eyes, a string of cheese hanging from his lips. 

Hongjoong scoffs but Yunho is quick to support his roommate's idea. "Oh god, your house is haunted!" He slaps Mingi's thigh repeatedly as both of them come up with the craziest assumptions as to why a ghost is stuck in his villa or what it could do if angered. 

"You're dumb, ghosts don't exist." Hongjoong rolls his eyes.

He stays the night regardless.

… 

There are no such things as ghosts or monsters under one's bed. Yunho and Mingi just have too much fantasy. 

Doesn't hurt to research the history of his inherited villa before he enters the house again though. Daya still snores on Yunho's chest when Hongjoong leaves the flat in the early morning hours to go to the library. The villa was featured in a rather thick book about architecture but the article doesn't cover its history so he doesn’t have any other option than als digging up old newspapers and skim through them. 

Needless to say, it takes hours before Hongjoong finds anything. 

It's an article in a local newspaper that covers the entire front page. Its edges are yellow and the font barely decipherable because it’s faded. The rather large black-white photo, on the other hand, is still in very good condition. A young man with long, black hair that's tied in a knot in his neck, a white open-necked shirt and dark eyes stare back at him. _A tragic suicide,_ the text reads, over four hundred years ago, soon after the villa was built. 

There are no such things as ghosts but the goosebumps on Hongjoong's skin feel as real as it gets.

He stays at Yunho's and Mingi's flat a few more days, claiming to need a break from the chaos at home.

… 

The change of scenery does wonders to Hongjoong's mind. At first, fear wants to cloud his thoughts, fear of the unknown, fear that he and Daya might be in danger. But if the ghost of that young man wanted to hurt or scare him, he would have done it by now. Thinking about the things he suspects to be the ghost's doing, Hongjoong notices that all he did was help. 

The thought is still unsettling because _there’s a ghost of someone that ended his life in Hongjoong's current bedroom haunting his house, what the fuck._ However, he can't stay at his friend's home forever so Daya and he find their way back to his front door one sunny morning.

Hongjoong takes a deep breath and opens the door. There's no noise coming from inside, of course not, but the potential presence of a ghost makes Hongjoong feel watched. Daya has no qualms about running inside like crazy and barking in greeting. It's then that Hongjoong realizes that his dog communicated with the ghost from day one on. His stomach does a weird flip. 

"Uh… I'm back." He calls out awkwardly and listens for any kind of an answer. 

Nothing. 

"Ah, I should tidy up a bit." He's talking to thin air but there's no one to witness it and call him crazy so Hongjoong decides it doesn't hurt to continue. "I left the living room in a mess." Scratching the back of his head, Hongjoong looks down at the pieces of his shelf laying where he left them days ago. He finally builds it with Daya watching curiously by his side while he comments everything he does. Once the shelf is secured on the wall, Hongjoong cooks lunch, eats, arranges his sleeping place in the second bedroom - there’s no way he sleeps in the room that man took his life in - and plays with Daya, all while talking about his days with his friends, his hobbies and anything that comes to his mind. He still feels dumb talking to himself, but after a while he doesn't dwell on it anymore and just talks. 

Daya's favourite ball rolls under a cabinet when Hongjoong tosses it too hard. It rolls back out after a moment.

He shouldn't feel that comfortable with a ghost somewhere next to him but he can't help but smile as he catches the ball and tosses it again.

"Thanks."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would you be as chill as Hongjoong? Let me know! 
> 
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/neomuyoo)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to say it before but I'll say it now... special thanks to Daria for motivating me so much and beta-reading this mess!!

There was nothing for a long, long time but darkness or blurred images in the dimness in the back of his mind. At first, he was afraid and tried to reach out, to be heard, to be seen. But no one ever stayed too long. He watched people come and make themselves a home in his house, happy and full of live. That’s what he wanted too, that’s what his soul yearned for. Happiness. A happiness he never experienced himself. 

He watched people come, he watched the same people pack their things and go, never to return. He was left alone. Again and again. Just like before, when he still was able to feel the gentle breeze of air on his skin or taste summer on the tip of his tongue. He couldn’t stand to just watch anymore so he shut himself off and then - darkness.

Unsure how much time passed since he last saw anything, a sudden noise startles Seonghwa. The floorboards in the hallway creak as a unknown person carefully peeks into the room he once called his own. The young man looks around and wrinkles his nose a bit before he inspects the next room. He’s just like the other people before him, Seonghwa thinks. He will come, make himself a home and be happy and then leave him alone again. He absentmindedly watches the stranger enter the bathroom and walk out backwards as soon as he stepped inside. 

”Heads up, Hongjoong.” He hasn’t heard someone’s voice in what feels like an eternity. 

Seonghwa sees the young man walking down the staircase, thumbs hitting the surface of a square-shaped item in his hand. Curious, Seonghwa follows him at a safe distance, eyes shifting between the tiny hands making letters appear on the object they’re holding and the concentrated frown on the other’s face. 

Cute.

The stranger mumbles to himself under his breath and looks around downstairs for the last time. Seonghwa doesn’t know what possessed him but he can’t help but step forward and outstretch his arm when the other wants to leave. His fingers halt right above the smaller’s shoulder as he freezes. 

“Turn around.” Seonghwa whispers. “Stay.” 

Deep brown eyes stare right through him, making Seonghwa’s skin tingle with something he didn’t feel for a long time. Warmth.

The young man goes and takes it with him, leaving nothing but coldness and loneliness behind. 

…

The young man - Hongjoong, as Seonghwa learns - comes back, armed with a broom, a bucket and some other things Seonghwa doesn’t know. Instead of retreating to the shell of darkness and numbness he created himself, something draws Seonghwa to the other. So he watches from the corner of the room as Hongjoong cleans and hums some tune under his breath he probably isn’t even aware of. 

He goes at the end of the day but always returns the next. Seonghwa’s already sitting on the staircase in the hallway and waits for Hongjoong so he can greet him. It’s not like the other hears him, though. No one ever did. Not even when he was still alive. 

One morning, when the sun shines through the clean windows, Hongjoong enters the house, packed with boxes in his arms and more standing right outside. There’s a small ball of fur bursting inside, running around in circles and sniffing the entire floor.

“You like it here, Daya?” Hongjoong laughs as he watches the dog inspecting every corner of the living room. 

If Seonghwa was still in need of filling his lungs with air, the breath would have stocked in his throat. That laugh, that smile… He feels like something pulls on his insides, twists his stomach and clouds his brain with a feeling he can’t decipher. Startled and confused, Seonghwa withdraws himself. 

The sun has long set when he comes downstairs again. He hasn’t heard Hongjoong running around for a while now. When he looks into the living room, he sees the other sitting on the pillows in front of yet another item he has never seen before. Something seems to frustrate him, if the scowl on his face is anything to go by. Seonghwa can’t stand to see him like this.

“Put it away if it angers you, Hongjoong.” He mutters, not expecting a reaction. He gets one, though, in form of the dog whirling around and staring at him. She slowly pads forward till she’s standing right in front of Seonghwa. A low growl leaves her mouth as if she’s threatening the stranger in her new home. Hongjoong is quick to call her back and calm her down but that changes nothing about the shock Seonghwa feels. 

The dog heard him. The dog _saw_ him. 

…

Hongjoong doesn’t seem to be fond of his dog growling and barking and, honestly, neither is Seonghwa. He decides to befriend her so the line between Hongjoong’s eyebrows would vanish. 

“Daya, come here!” The puppy runs on clumsy legs in Seonghwa’s direction and almost collides with the patio door behind him. “You gotta pee outside.” He scolds her lightly after catching her right before she was able to relieve herself in one of the corners. “Bark and scratch here.” Seonghwa crouches down and demonstrates. Daya is quick to pick up and imitates his actions immediately. Hongjoong glances over from his spot a few meters away and rushes to the door as soon as he realizes what his dog wishes. 

“Such a good girl.” He coos at her as she jumps outside and runs to a nearby bush. 

The door remains open after that.

…

Seonghwa quickly realizes that Hongjoong has only a vague idea of what he’s doing. And that he’s messy and clumsy and helpless. It makes warmth spread in Seonghwa’s chest but it’s slightly unnerving too when he sees the other searching for the hammer for the 5th time that day. 

“You left it in the kitchen.” Seonghwa reminds him but Hongjoong resumes looking around on the floor, cursing under his breath. Sighing, Seonghwa himself walks into the kitchen, grabs the hammer and -- 

Well, what should he do now?

He peeks into the room where Hongjoong is still looking for his tool. Daya gnawing on one of his shoes in the entryway distracts him momentarily so Seonghwa has enough time to place the hammer right on the table where it’s supposed to be. When Hongjoong finds it a moment later, he laughs at himself and continues his work. Seonghwa decides then that he would help the other out a bit. When his assistance isn’t needed, he plays around with Daya, chasing her around the house or tossing a ball for her to catch and return. He even teaches her how to roll on the ground once and sit upright afterwards. He always wished to own a dog as they’re said to be human’s best friends and make one feel better in the blink of an eye. 

It’s true. The corners of Seonghwa’s lips turn upwards from time to time, the smile feeling foreign on his face. What he enjoys more than playing with the puppy by day are the evenings when he lets himself be closer to Hongjoong.

The three of them lounge on the couch while Hongjoong types away on his boxy device. He writes stories on paper that seems to be contained in the box once its lid is open. Seonghwa is fascinated and reads every word that appears. Sometimes he is not fast enough and Hongjoong lets the words vanish before he manages to read them. Daya lays between them on her back and is content to have her belly rubbed. When Hongjoong gets more and more immersed in his story and stops petting her, Seonghwa takes his place and cards his fingers through the pup’s fur. Hours pass - or seconds? minutes? - and Hongjoong closes the lid of his device. Seonghwa watches him stretch and put his cute reading glasses aside before he absently pets Daya again.

Seonghwa knows he should have retreated his hand as it was too close to Hongjoong’s now. When he tried to touch people before they were shocked, sometimes frightened and claimed to feel a kind of cold Seonghwa himself is all to familiar with. The freezing breath of death, a woman said once. He should have pulled his hand away but instead he watches as Hongjoong’s fingers brush his own. 

When the other made him feel warmth before, he now experiences hotness shooting up from his hand right to his still heart. They retreat their hands at the same time. Hongjoong frowns, checks his fingers and then unassuming Daya’s belly. 

He goes to bed and Seonghwa stays downstairs, like always. The fire in his veins fades slowly until the usual colds settles in his body once again. 

…

Seonghwa is careful to not touch Hongjoong again but he can’t help and places his tools in their rightful place when the other works. He comes close to Hongjoong sometimes, too close in one or two cases when barely a centimeter separates them. He watches moving pictures on yet another square-shaped device - a movie on television as he learns - and only pets Daya when Hongjoong is otherwise preoccupied. When the other falls asleep on the couch, one arm hanging down and mouth parted as he makes soft noises in his sleep, Seonghwa gets one of the fluffy blankets from upstairs and covers Hongjoong carefully. 

It’s frustrating to keep his distance when Seonghwa wants nothing more than to touch Hongjoong again, to feel the hotness, to feel that flicker of life. It’s frustrating and tiring and one evening Seonghwa slips up. He doesn’t touch Hongjoong, no, instead he does something worse. 

Without thinking, he catches the cup Hongjoong dropped. He holds it in his hand, his own eyes as wide as Hongjoong’s when the other stares at the cup. Seonghwa knows he screwed up when Hongjoong literally flees from him. 

Seonghwa absently puts the cup down next to the sink, eyes unfocused and limbs heavy. 

He won’t come back.

…

The loneliness is not the same it was before. Seonghwa got too attached, too comfortable and now he’s paying the price. He never entered his former bedroom after Hongjoong moved in but now he sinks down on the other’s bed and stares at the wall. He’s about to accept that he will be alone again when the door opens and Hongjoong returns. 

Everything is seemingly back to normal so Seonghwa dares to stay in the same room as Hongjoong. Something is off about the other’s behaviour, however, Seonghwa can’t pinpoint what it is. He doesn’t dwell on it and helps Hongjoong out like before. It’s a bit strange when he leaves abruptly without finishing the shelf he was about to work on.

Seonghwa only noticed he went right into a trap when Hongjoong doesn’t come back home for days.

He messed up once and got a second chance. He messed it up again. 

This time he doesn’t feel sorry for himself. He deserves the emptiness that fills him because he was a fool. 

…

"Uh… I'm back."

A gentle voice calls out. It feels so far away. It sounds from somewhere beyond the darkness he’s in. With great effort, Seonghwa opens his eyes. 

"Ah, I should tidy up a bit." 

There it is again. 

Seonghwa gets up and walks downstairs like he’s in trance, lured by Hongjoong’s voice. 

The other is standing in the middle of the living room and looks so unsure but apologetic - for what Seonghwa doesn’t know. He continues talking to himself and it takes a bit until Seonghwa realizes that the other addresses _him_. 

Warmth. Life. And an emotion so unknown and strange.

“Thank you.” Seonghwa would cry if he still could. “Thank you for not leaving me alone.”

…

He doesn’t have to hide anymore. Touching is still out of question for Seonghwa but now he doesn’t have to be subtle when he places Hongjoong’s tools in obvious spots or practically throws an apple at the other’s head when he doesn’t eat all day long. 

Hongjoong talks about nothing and everything and Seonghwa absorbs every information. He answers back when asked a question or comments on the stories Hongjoong tells him even though he can’t be heard. 

Seonghwa is relieved and - he dares to think - happy. The bond that slowly but steadily forms between him and Hongjoong is still fragile but it’s there, he knows it. And that’s more than he ever had even when his heart was still beating.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was an attempt at angst lol
> 
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/neomuyoo)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for taking so long... This chapter was supposed to be uploaded last Thursday but stuff happened (read: the whole thing with wonho and those other rumors regarding shownu) and I really had no strength to write. It's still not easy but I felt bad for abandoning this fanfic when I planned on finishing it last week.
> 
> So here we are!
> 
> Thanks to everyone who left a comment! You're the reason I continue this tbh <3

Hongjoong is out of the house more often now; he leaves around lunchtime and only comes back when it’s already dark outside. He asks Seonghwa to look after Daya while he meets people at work or runs some errands. There is more furniture in every room: a full-length mirror in the bedroom - not Seonghwa’s old room because that’s still as untouched as the day Hongjoong moved his things out there -, a big shelf for books and nice lamps that flood the room with warm light. 

It’s one of those days again when Hongjoong pulls a stack of blank paper out of his messenger back and lays it on the kitchen table. Seonghwa watches with a confused frown as the other places a box with pens on the paper and nods to himself.

“I figured it must be boring to sit around all day so use this? Maybe?” He says with a smile, eyes scanning the kitchen as if he could spot the ghost somewhere around him. Seonghwa remains quiet and observes how the smile on Hongjoong’s face slowly fades away after a minute of silence. “I have to go now.” Hongjoong sounds sad, almost defeated, as he turns around with one last glance and leaves.

Eyes not straying from the paper, Seonghwa steps closer to the table. Should he? Hongjoong would probably be happy about it. He picks up one of the pens and musters it for a moment. 

A sun; that’s what he draws. A little ball with several strokes around it. It’s fitting in a way. The sun is warm and brings light and life. That’s what Hongjoong is for him. 

“Daya!” Seonghwa calls out and lays the pen down before he he can think about his little drawing too much. “Where’s your ball, huh?” 

…

Hongjoong has the most beautiful smile on his face when he returns that evening. 

…

From then on, Seonghwa picks the pen up at least once a day. They don’t really talk that way, Hongjoong doesn’t leave questions for the other to answer. Instead, Seonghwa reminds him of appointments or warns him when the milk in the fridge went bad. Hongjoong is always so happy when he sees a new message waiting for him and the knowledge that Seonghwa is the reason behind the smile on the other’s face makes a soothing warmth spread in his stomach. At the same time, however, the wish to talk to Hongjoong in person, to hug him when he sulks or console him when he’s frustrated grows with every passing day. 

Hongjoong doesn’t even know his name. 

“Should I tell you?” The question is whispered in the darkness of the night, Hongjoong once again asleep on the couch. Seonghwa drapes a blanket over the other’s thin frame and sighs. “If you’d know who I am—” He pauses, hit with an ugly feeling he doesn’t dare to address. 

“Would you leave me if you know what I did?” 

Seonghwa pouts and sits down on the ground in front of his sleeping friend. Are they friends? Hongjoong called him that several times now so maybe it’s okay for Seonghwa to do the same… 

…

When Hongjoong awakes the next morning he bites his bottom lip in order to suppress a huge grin breaking out on his face. “Seonghwa.” He reads aloud and stares at the small piece of paper he found on the coffee table. “Well then, good morning!”

…

Realization hits Seonghwa when he watches Hongjoong paint the walls in his bed room. The other is talking about ideas for his new book but he doesn’t listen. How was he so blind? Blind? Or rather dumb? It doesn’t matter in the end. Not when he finally is able to name that warmth spreading in him whenever he is close to Hongjoong. Love. He’s falling in love. 

Hongjoong’s voice is only a noise in the background, almost drowned out by the ringing in his ears. 

_A smile that looks all kinds of wrong. A voice that’s full of disdain. “You must be joking.” A scoff. Laughter._

The images keep flashing in his mind. They turn his vision into a layer of moving shadows, blinding light and pitch-black darkness all the same. 

_Unconcealed disgust in deep brown eyes._

He doesn’t register Daya whining and scratching the floor right in front of him, doesn’t notice Hongjoong stopped working and crouches down next to the puppy instead. 

There are soft words spoken, words meant to soothe, to calm, to reach out. Though,, Seonghwa only hears static noise.

…

After that episode Seonghwa tries to stay away from Hongjoong for a bit. His attempt at distancing himself, however, only lasts for two days. Those days, Hongjoong reaches his hands out randomly and tries to feel something around him. Seonghwa can’t tell what he’s searching for but he supposes it’s him Hongjoong tries to touch. It makes him wonder if Hongjoong senses anything when he’s nearby. 

It’s on the second night that Seonghwa breaks and approaches the other again. Hongjoong is fast asleep, a thin layer of drool forming on the pillow under his head. Usually, Seonghwa would not enter Hongjoong’s bedroom at night but he’s restless. The skin all over his arms and legs tingles like tiny needles piercing the surface repeatedly. The sensation ceases with every step he takes to the ajar door of Hongjoong’s room. When he finally stands next to the other’s bed, there’s only a prickling feeling left in his fingertips. 

Without thinking about it, Seonghwa stretches his arm out. His hand doesn’t meet skin. 

“What the—” He tries to touch Hongjoong’s hand once more but his palm meets the bedsheet again. “Why can’t I touch you?” His voice wavers, different emotions clouding his head all at once; confusion, hurt, sadness. 

He turns to Daya peacefully sleeping with her head on Hongjoong’s ankle. His fingers thread through her fur easily. 

“Why?” He asks again but not even the wind rustling through the treetops answers him.

A feeling he buried deep inside of him for so long climbs its way back to the surface. Despair. 

…

It’s okay, Seonghwa thinks as he watches Hongjoong arrange the second bedroom with a spare bed and wardrobe. “For guests.” He explains while studying the construction plan for the bed for the third time.

“You’re holding the wrong part.” Seonghwa shakes his head fondly and nudges the slat Hongjoong is supposed to use next. Hongjoong startles at the sudden movement next to him but giggles once he realises what the ghost tries to show him.

“You’d be screwed without me.” Seonghwa smirks and pets Daya’s head. “He would still live in a building site. He knows how to work with words but tools are not his best friends, huh?” The dog barks in agreement just as Hongjoong misses the nail and almost hits his thumb with the hammer. 

It’s okay, Seonghwa thinks again as Hongjoong settles on the couch with his laptop and a large cup of coffee. He might not be able to touch the other but they communicate, they help each other - Seonghwa keeps Hongjoong alive and in return Hongjoong lets Seonghwa feel happiness. 

It’s okay, Seonghwa tells himself when Hongjoong places a stepladder in the middle of the living room to install the new ceiling lamp. He climbs up and almost trips, making Seonghwa rush forward and grab the ladder in both hands to steady it.

“Oops.” Hongjoong winces and proceeds to stretch himself in order to reach the ceiling. 

“Be careful.” Seonghwa murmurs but not a second after the words leave his lips, Hongjoong loses balance. Unable catch his falling friend, Seonghwa’s is left to watch with horrified eyes as Hongjoong falls right through his outstretched hands and lands with a defeatening thud on the ground. 

The world stops for a second. Only one second before Seonghwa’s mind goes in overdrive. 

“Hongjoong?” 

He doesn’t move.

“Please don’t play any jokes.” 

He still doesn’t move. Is he breathing? Seonghwa can’t tell and he’s too afraid to lean over his friend’s still body to check.

He calls for help before he realises no one will hear him. “Daya...” He whispers at first but grows louder and louder as he continues to shout for the dog. The puppy runs in from the opened patio door and starts barking as soon as she senses that something’s wrong.

Finally unfrozen, Seonghwa kneels in front of Hongjoong. His mind goes blank as he sees blood. Red and thick. The next minutes pass in a blurr, Seonghwa doesn’t think, doesn’t process what happens. He carefully cradles Hongjoong’s head in his hands, sees blood spilling from the other’s nose. Daya’s barking ceases as someone enters the house from the garden and rushes to Hongjoong’s side. 

“Call an ambulance, quick!” He calls out to someone else. 

Everything happens so fast. There are two strangers in their home caring for Hongjoong and calming Daya down while Seonghwa can’t do anything to help. Soon, paramedics roll Hongjoong out on a stretcher and the strangers leave eventually after closing the doors and take Daya with them. 

Seonghwa is left alone with blood on his hands. 

…

The sun sets hours later and only then does Seonghwa realise that he was able to touch Hongjoong. 

…

He waits patiently. Either Hongjoong will return or relatives come to pick up his stuff and sell the house again. 

He waits for a week. Seven days full of self-blame and coldness. There was so much blood. 

“Careful, hyung.” An unknown voice speaks, catching Seonghwa’s full attention. The front door stays open and — 

“Hongjoong!” Seonghwa can’t suppress the shout of joy when he sees his friend stumbling into his home with an arm around someone else’s shoulder. 

“Yunho, I’m fine. You don’t need to worry so much.” Hongjoong complains but the other - Yunho - doesn’t let him go until he sits on the couch and rolls his eyes. “Can you get Daya from the neighbors, Mingi?”

Said person still stands in the doorway and looks around carefully, hesitant to step into the house. “You’re sure you want to stay here after the ghost—”

“Please get her.” Mingi is cut off short with a stern look. 

What did he want to say? The ghost what? 

…

Seonghwa stays away and watches Hongjoong talk to his friends and cuddle with the overexcited puppy in his arms. He looks exhausted and there’s a bandage around his wrist and well as his nose. 

Mingi and Yunho stay for over a week to make sure Hongjoong takes it easy and that he’s save. Save from whom Seonghwa learns one night when he overhears Mingi spilling his worries about a ghost shoving Hongjoong from the ladder to Yunho.

Seonghwa makes sure to put as much distance between himself and the humans as possible.

The neighbors come over a few times and Seonghwa finally learns their names: Yeosang and Wooyoung. The couple bought the small house next door a few years ago after they graduated from college and took out a loan. 

It’s good to see Hongjoong surrounded by so many people that care about him. He looks fine and that’s everything that counts, right? It’s not important that Hongjoong hasn’t spoken to him in a week. It’s meaningless that Daya is glued to her owner’s side and doesn’t spare a glance in Seonghwa’s direction. As long as Hongjoong is fine, nothing else matters.

Being ignored - he forgot how that feels like. He can’t blame Hongjoong, though. Maybe Mingi is right and it was his fault and not an accident. He was able to touch Hongjoong after all. Perhaps his memory betrays him and he shoved the ladder? It’s confusing and it hurts to think about so Seonghwa stops, stops it all together. 

He’s merely a bystander in the corner of the living room, lonely and rejected. Hongjoong even put the paper and pens away.

Another emotion he forgot surfaces on the tenth evening when Hongjoong cuddles with his friends on the couch. Not too long ago he sat there but he’s not part of Hongjoong’s life anymore and maybe that’s for the best. 

Jealousy mixed with sadness is a dangerous combination. He shouldn’t give in to this feeling but it’s so tempting when he observes the humans watching TV, laughing and joking with each other. He never had something like that and he never will. He should be thankful Hongjoong shared his kindness with him while it lasted. But he was a fool to think he had a chance. 

“You’re so dumb.” He scolds himself for opening his heart only to let it bleed dry _again_. Falling in love didn’t do any good to him before. Why should it have ended differently this time?

Seonghwa doesn’t notice the windows rattle even though the night is calm. 

Hongjoong’s loud yell startles Seonghwa so hard he blinks and finally sees the result of his destructive thoughts in front of him - shattered glass all over the floor and frightened eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There were quite a few skips in this chapter, I hope it wasn't too confusing. 
> 
> How do you think will Hongjoong react? Seonghwa might be a bit dramatic but love does strange things to someone, especially considering his past.
> 
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/neomuyoo)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I added two tags! There won't be anything too heavy or descriptive, don't worry. If you still feel unsure about reading this chapter bc of the mentioned suicide, just read till Seonghwa lays down next to Hongjoong and DM me so I can tell you the rest <3

Once the initial shock dies down, Yunho and Mingi spring up from their seats next to Hongjoong. They’re wide eyed and torn between checking the windows or fleeing from the house because-- 

“That was the ghost, right? Oh my god, it was the ghost.”

Mingi is right. Hongjoong knows he’s right but he doesn’t understand. Seonghwa never was violent like this before. 

“Joong hyung?” Yunho is the first to tear his eyes away from the shattered glass and turns to the older who doesn’t react at all. “We should clean this up.” He addresses Mingi in the end when Hongjoong remains still.

As soon as they leave the room to get a broom and trash can, Daya’s whining reaches her owner’s ears. Hongjoong glances to the puppy that sits in the far corner of the room, ears flattened and tail wagging slightly as she tries to comfort someone. 

“Are you okay?” He knows Seonghwa hears him even though he whispers. The answer comes in form of Daya whining one last time and turning her head as if she watches someone leave the room. The faint cold that his friends complained about every day vanishes completely. 

The three of them clean in silence. Yunho and Mingi share some glances with each other, communicating without words, and Hongjoong is too deep in his own thoughts to care about their worried expressions. He knows it was entirely his fault that he fell. He should have asked someone to help or use a nearby shelf to keep himself upright on the ladder. When he came back from the hospital, he wanted to assure Seonghwa he’s alright, that he just needs a bit more rest. However, his friends were suspicious and protective and wouldn’t leave him alone. He denied the existence of a ghost in his house so he couldn’t continue to talk to Seonghwa like before without worrying Yunho and Mingi even more.

It takes a lot of work to convince his friends that there might have been a crack in the windows that caused the shattered pieces of glass all over the floor. Okay, maybe they are not convinced but they go home the next morning after Hongjoong explains that he needs time for himself and, yes, he will call them everyday. 

He starts talking to Seonghwa as soon as he’s alone again. 

“Yunho installed the lamp. It’s pretty, isn’t it?” 

“Do you think the blue collar suits Daya better than the green one?”

“Do you want me to play some music on the speakers?”

“Hey, I lost my paint brush. You know, the big one... Do you know where it is?” 

There’s neither an answer written on the paper he placed on the kitchen table nor stuff floating in his direction. 

No chillness nearby. He wonders where Seonghwa is. After searching in every room, feeling the air in every corner of his house without coming in contact with anything cold that would indicate the ghost is somewhere next to him, Hongjoong starts pleading Seonghwa to let him know he’s okay. 

There’s no sign of the other in three days.

“Maybe I imagined all that.” Daya tilts her head in question. Hongjoong sits across from her on the ground, absentmindedly playing with the squeaky toy in his hands. She hasn’t barked at the air even once. “Perhaps I was just lonely and pretended to have someone here with me?” 

The puppy tilts her head to the other side and paws at his leg. Sighing, Hongjoong throws the toy and Daya runs after it immediately. It slides across the floor all the way over to the side table next to one of the repaired windows. That’s when he sees it: a shard they must have missed cleaning. 

He picks it up without thinking and - because he’s an idiot - cuts himself. “Ah shit!” He lets the piece fall with some more curses and is about to stick his bleeding finger in his mouth when he feels a warm touch on his skin.

The cold is back, erupting goosebumps on his skin, while his hand is being cupped in warmth. Hongjoong holds his breath and stares and his palm with wide eyes.

The touch disappears eventually but before Hongjoong is able to say anything, a clean cloth settles on his cut. 

…

The paper remains untouched but Hongjoong feels Seonghwa’s presence again. The faint coldness is comforting in a way that lifts Hongjoong’s mood immediately as soon as he notices it is back. He starts talking on and on just like before. 

There’s not much work left in the house so he focuses on his book for now. The story writes itself after he got over his block. And - of course - he ended up using supernatural elements as main factors. Ghosts, psychics, magic. 

Eden is surprised about the sudden change of plans in Hongjoong’s plot line but he turns out to be quite interested in this kind of stuff and recommends some good books for researching. Hongjoong feels a bit strange with the way Eden looks at him with knowing eyes before he leaves. It’s like he wants to ask something but the words just won’t form. 

Seonghwa is back to his caring self in the house. They talk more now. The ghost does not only remind Hongjoong to eat but also to wear a scarf and not forget his gloves because _“your tiny fingers might freeze off”_. Hongjoong is not even offended and instead playfully teases back that the other should hold his hands if he’s so worried about them. It’s meant to be a joke but he wouldn’t mind the real thing if he’s honest. 

He doesn’t know much about Seonghwa besides the information he got these last days in form of neatly written words. Seonghwa was Hongjoong’s age when he died. He had a few older siblings and didn’t mention a single friend. He always enjoyed cooking and riding. The best thing, however, was to curl up with a thick blanket in front of the window in his room, a book and warm tea in his hands while the rain poured down outside. Hongjoong couldn’t help but smile fondly when he read that a few days ago. It was the first time Seonghwa would write more than one or two sentences. 

Ever since then, the ghost’s messages grew longer. He told Hongjoong fond memories of his childhood, running around outside, the feeling of sun warming his skin. There’s a twinge of bitterness mixed with his words though.

As Seonghwa seems to grow more and more comfortable around Hongjoong, the nagging starts. 

_”Do the dishes for a change.”_

_”It’s not hard to make your bed, Hongjoong.”_

_”Would you stop biting your nails? It’s stressing me out.”_

And sometimes - although these occasions are rare - Hongjoong wakes up to words that make his heart melt.

_”Your singing yesterday was nice. Please do it again today? I wouldn’t mind listening.”_

It might sound crazy but Hongjoong thinks he falls in love.

All the while he spends more and more time looking up stuff on the internet, searches for people who experienced the same things as he does and if there’s any possibility to touch a ghost beyond the coldness. There are loads of internet sites and forums, everyone claiming something different so Hongjoong has to take everything into consideration and make up his own theory. 

The blood might have something to do with it. He’s not sure but there’s only one way to find out. 

The knife reflects the light of the ceiling lamp in the kitchen when Hongjoong turns it in his hands. He turns around, looks for something he knows he can’t see and then back to the knife.

“Are you here, Seonghwa?” 

One of the chairs is softly pushed to the table. Hongjoong smiles briefly before he bites his bottom lip.

He hates pain. So much. But this is worth a try.

Careful and with a surprisingly steady hand, Hongjoong presses the pointy tip of the knife to the forefinger of his left hand. It stings like hell but there’s only a single droplet of blood running down his finger. Seonghwa must have stepped forward because the cold intensifies in the matter of seconds. 

“It’s okay, don’t worry.” Hongjoong mumbles as he puts the knife on the counter and takes a deep breath. “Just… Stay still for a moment.”

He reaches out blindly. There’s nothing but cold, cold and -- 

His slightly bloody finger meets a sudden resistance.

…

…

…

Seonghwa’s hands tremble as he watches Hongjoong’s finger coming in contact with his chest. There’s a sharp intake of breath but he can’t look away from the spot where there’s now a palm carefully pressed against his torso. 

“Is that… Is that you?” Hongjoong’s voice is small, barely a whisper but it tears Seonghwa out of his frozen state. 

He lays a hand on top of Hongjoong’s. “It’s me.” 

Warmth. So much warmth and comfort.

Seonghwa can’t remember the last time he cried tears of joy. 

…

He knows he’s in love, there’s no use denying it. It’s okay, he came to terms with this whole situation. Hongjoong is unreachable for him but he won’t ever do something like the outburst a week ago ever again. And if he’s doomed to be a bystander, no matter how long it’ll last, he’ll be happy to be a helping hand in the other’s life. 

Now, though, in the middle of the night as he sits on Hongjoong’s bed and watches the stars shining, hope sneaks inside his chest and lays itself around his still heart like a blanket. There’s a voice whispering in the back of his mind, telling him that - maybe - he is loved back. 

…

Seonghwa has to tell Hongjoong to stop picking one of his fingers with a needle he bought every day.

“But I barely feel it.” The other pouts as he reads Seonghwa’s message. “And I like holding your hand. It’s warm. Don’t you like it too?”

Damn, those puppy eyes. Daya teached Hongjoong too well. 

“Of course I like it but I don’t feel comfortable when you hurt yourself like this.” He picks up a pen and writes those words down then and there. 

“Fine.” Hongjoong rolls his eyes but there’s a smile tugging on his lips regardless. 

…

“Oops, oh no. I’m so clumsy. You were right all along, Seonghwa. This was bound to happen.” 

“You’re a bad actor.” Seonghwa is unimpressed as he watches Hongjoong emerging from the bathroom with a small wound on his pinky.

“Who would have thought that you can accidentally cut yourself while shaving.”

“Shaving. In the evening. And this is cut is dot-shaped. Did you really sneak the needle inside the bathroom and thought I wouldn’t notice?”

“Well, I’m already bleeding now. Come sit with me?” 

The thought to refuse doesn’t cross Seonghwa’s mind. He sits down next to Hongjoong on the couch and gently pulls the other’s hand in his to inspect the small wound. It’ll probably not be noticeable in the morning, seeing as it’s not even bleeding anymore. He intertwines their fingers with a sigh and listens to Hongjoong recalling Daya’s adventure at the dog park with Wooyoung earlier that day. 

Seonghwa is glad Hongjoong meets up with his neighbors from time to time. He wishes he could thank them in person but that’s not possible, unfortunately. He told Hongjoong to buy them a small cake, though. 

“And then he sulked because Yeosang wants a cat and not a dog. He was so cute, I almost told him that I’ll convince Yeosang to give in.” Hongjoong laughs, his fingers tightening around Seonghwa’s. “I bought him ice cream instead.”

“It’s freezing outside. Why would you do that?”

“We ate it on our way back and that was really nice. But then it suddenly felt like my insides freeze.”

Seonghwa doesn’t know what to say so he just laughs, squeezing Hongjoong’s hand for a last time before the connection between them slowly fades away until they’re not touching anymore. 

Hongjoong takes that as his cue to carry his sleeping puppy to bed and crawl under the covers himself. He looks incredibly soft in moments like these with his droopy eyes and tired smile as he wishes Seonghwa a good night.

This night, instead of looking outside the window or pass time reading one of the books strewn around in Hongjoong’s room, Seonghwa lays down beside the other. He knows it’s a bit creepy to watch Hongjoong drifting off to sleep but he doesn’t think too hard about it and lets himself pretend that he’s alive for a change.

He feels the warmth radiating from Hongjoong’s hand laying next to his own and closes his eyes. Seonghwa tries to remember how it felt to fall asleep and dream. 

He knows there’s no turning back time. He’s dead. His time was over when he drank the poison that was meant to kill rats. Back then, he couldn’t see a single ray of light, his mind clouded by unrequited love, humiliation and the disgusted grimaces of his family. He gave up on life and paid with hundreds of years suffering in loneliness. 

But with every smile Hongjoong flashes for him, it feels like a glimmer of life lights itself in his cold body. 

It’s a bit ironic. When he was alive, his parents didn’t really care about him, too busy with his sibling who achieved the things their parents wished for. He learned to enjoy his own company from a young age, lost himself in books about adventures and fairy tales. But as he grew older, the need for company and human touch increased until it hurt. It was at his most desperate times when Seonghwa met _him_. He gave everything he had, his mind, his soul, his body, thinking he was deeply in love and loved back. But his life wasn’t one of the fairy tales he used to read. There was no prince in shining armour saving him from his miserable existence. There was only this man who took advantage of his feelings and left after he got everything he wanted. 

It wasn’t love, back then. Seonghwa knows this now as he lays next to Hongjoong with a small smile on his face and allows himself to dream of a reality where he has a future with Hongjoong by his side.

He must have been lost in his own thoughts for a long time because when he opens his eyes again, the sun shines through the window and warms his skin.

Hongjoong is already awake and stares right in Seonghwa’s eyes with his mouth agape and one hand hovering above Seonghwa’s cheek. 

His heart races and -- wait what?

Hongjoong’s lips tremble as he lowers his hand until his palm softly cups Seonghwa’s cheek. 

There’s no blood on the other’s hand when he strokes away the stray tear running down Seonghwa’s face. 

Hongjoong starts to cry silently, biting his bottom lip to suppress his sobs. Seonghwa is still in shock when the other pulls him closer and seals their lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The main story is finally over!! There will be one more chapter uploaded next week ~ But what could that be about? 👀 Let me know your thoughts and ideas! (hint: we haven't met San and Jongho yet!)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is twice as long as the others... Oops /D 
> 
> Also! I added a few more tags. There is child abuse mentioned in one sentence near the end. It happened in the past and has nothing to do with Seonghwa and Hongjoong. But as always: if you feel unsure, don't hesitate to DM me so I can tell you what happened without you having to read that part (just stop reading when they open the dossier).

It’s been an eventful year. Hongjoong still remembers clearly that morning he woke up to a stranger sleeping in bed next to him, only to recognize the other from an old photo he found in a newspaper oh so many weeks ago. 

After the surprise wore off, they talked and touched each other properly for the first time and they didn’t stop even when the sun set again. There was no logical explanation for Seonghwa coming back to life so they thought that maybe he just got a day granted by some unknown power. But when that day turned into a week which turned into a month, they knew this wasn’t temporary. Seonghwa was able to leave the house, to eat, to sleep, to touch like every other human. 

Once they got used to the idea of Seonghwa being alive again, things got a little bit complicated. Not between them, no, but Seonghwa didn’t have any official papers and therefore didn’t exist legally. 

Who would have known Eden could help in that situation? It wasn’t planned for Hongjoong’s publisher and Seonghwa to meet. It happened when Hongjoong was out to buy groceries that Eden came over for a surprise visit that turned into an afternoon and evening full of talking, figuring things out and Eden pulling some strings to get papers for the former ghost. 

“I knew something was up.” He said with a small smile and Hongjoong remembered then and there the look his publisher gave him when he had presented the new idea for his book. 

A few more months later and they married because “they always marry at the end of fairy tales, Joong.”. And who is Hongjoong to decline his boyfriend his happy ending? There were only a few people present at the wedding: Yunho and Mingi, Yeosang and Wooyoung as well as Eden and Hongjoong’s parents who fell in love with their son-in-law as quickly as Hongjoong did. Of course they couldn’t tell anyone the real story how they met so they came up with the simple story of Hongjoong walking Daya one evening and stumbling upon Seonghwa when the pup freed herself from her leash and ran away. Thankfully, no one doubts that lie and welcomes Seonghwa in the family. 

Life’s been good, Hongjoong thinks every night he crawls into bed and snuggles into Seonghwa’s open arms. They fight from time to time, they don’t talk to each other for hours but at the end of the day they love each other too much to be upset for too long. 

Which is why Hongjoong takes a deep breath before his anger gets the best of him. He counts to ten with his eyes closed and opens them again after a few more measured breaths. Nope, there’s still water spilled on his opened laptop. The screen is black and there’s a weird sizzling noise coming from the device.

“I went to the toilet for one minute.” Hongjoong states in a deadpan voice to no one in particular. “One minute.”

Daya looks really happy about this whole situation. 

“Seonghwa?” Hongjoong calls out. His husband has been sitting on the couch when he left the room a few minutes ago but now he’s nowhere to be seen. “Hwa?” He shouts louder and finally gets an answer in the form of Seonghwa entering the living room with an irritated expression.

“Any reason why you pulled all of our clothes out of the wardrobe and scattered them all across the floor?”

“I did what?” 

Seonghwa rolls his eyes. “It’s okay, just help me clean this mess again.”

“I didn’t do anything-- But you did. You spilled water on my laptop!” Hongjoong points his finger at the table where his laptop is still dying. Or is it dead already? Thank god he made a backup yesterday. 

“Nonsense.” Seonghwa frowns and takes a step closer to look at what Hongjoong’s talking about. “You went upstairs and there was a loud thud so I went to check up on you but only found chaos in our room and no trace of you.”

“I went to the bathroom downstairs.” 

They look at each other unblinkly as the seconds tick by. 

Daya barks and wags her tail while she runs in circles as if chasing someone around. 

A chill runs down Hongjoong’s spine. “A ghost?” He whispers and looks around cautiously. He noticed the air was a bit chillier inside these days but he blamed it on the change of seasons and Seonghwa’s habit to leave a window open for fresh air. 

“Maybe.” The frown melts from Seonghwa’s face is is replaced by a worried expression. Hongjoong doesn’t have to be a mind reader to know what the other thinks. _What if they’re hurting?_ There is a reason some ghost don’t move on after all. “We have to keep an eye open.”

…

Keeping an eye open is not as hard as it could have been. Stuff goes missing one day and appears in a completely different spot the next day. 

“At least I was helpful when I moved your stuff around.” Seonghwa sighs, taking the roll of toilet paper out from under his pillow. 

“I don’t think they mean bad though. Those are just little pranks.” Hongjoong changes into his pyjamas and huffs a laughs when he sees the fork laying in his house slippers. Mingi can’t come over till they sort this out or he’ll freak out. 

Seonghwa hums as he walks around the bed to button Hongjoong’s sleep shirt up. “I think it might be a child. You noticed all of your plushies went missing?” 

Yes, Hongjoong did notice. And he’s not happy about that at all. He might be a grown man but that doesn’t mean he lets someone kidnap his stuffed friends. “I only had two anyway.” He grumbles and rests his forehead against Seonghwa’s chest. 

…

When Seonghwa returns from work at the restaurant nearby, he carries a small plastic bag Hongjoong eyes curiously.

“It’s a toy car.” He explains and hands it over to the other to unpack. “Kids like to play with those, right?”

Hongjoong turns the shiny red car in his hands and nods. “This should work.” 

They place it a few feet away from Daya’s basket in the living room. The dog is peacefully sleeping and the car doesn’t move even when they finish the first Harry Potter movie. 

“Maybe we should talk to them? You told me it helped you a lot.” Hongjoong wonders aloud while he watches Seonghwa changing the DVDs. 

“What if we spook them that way?”

Hongjoong can’t help but snort. “Yeah, we spook the ghost.” 

Seonghwa settles down on the couch again and lays an arm around Hongjoong’s shoulder. “It’s a bit chilly in here so they might be near us.” He murmurs, eyes scanning their surroundings. “Okay, try it.” 

“Uhm.” Hongjoong looks at Seonghwa for help but the other shrugs, obviously as helpless as he is himself. “Hello kiddo.” Oh shit, what if it’s not a kid and takes offence and makes their lives miserable?

Seonghwa must sense Hongjoong’s rising panic. He kisses his husband’s temple to make the thoughts stop and speaks up next. 

“The car is for you. Play with it as much as you like.” 

Nothing happens which isn’t that surprising. 

Halfway through the second movie, however, the car rolls until it hits Daya’s basket, making the dog look up. She wags her tail immediately and watches the car roll in another direction. It doesn’t stop moving the entire evening, drives circles around the coffee table, floats in the air from time to time and speeds all the way to the kitchen and back. 

…

It’s funny how fast you become accustomed to something. Only a few days after Seonghwa bought the toy car, playing with and talking to the ghost became something normal in their small household. 

“Food is ready in a bit!” Seonghwa calls out from the kitchen and tries to shoo Daya away the next second. The dog, however, just trotts to his other side and proceeds begging for bits of food. 

Hongjoong smirks when he sees Seonghwa give in and let a small piece of meat fall right into her mouth. Meanwhile the flashy red toy car races right into his sock clad foot. “Ouch!” Rubbing his hurting toe, he picks up the car and tries to sense where the ghost could be. It seems to be a bit colder to his left so he pushes the car in that direction and grins when it hits something invisible. They push the car back and forth a few more times until Hongjoong has to set the table. 

…

Even though the ghost doesn’t seem to get tired of the toy car, Seonghwa and Hongjoong don’t always have time to sit down and play. It’s one of Seonghwa’s late days at the restaurant and Hongjoong has a deadline looming above him that the car repeatedly hitting his feet and Daya whining right next to him get too much.

“I can’t play now.” He tries to sound friendly even when he feels the headache forming already. The car won’t stop pushing against him though and Hongjoong is so close to snap at the ghost when he remembers it’s still a kid. “Don’t you want to play something different?”

The real question is if they have something in the house the ghost could play with. The plushies are still missing and chasing Daya around doesn’t seem to be an option, seeing as the dog obviously supports the kids pastime annoying Hongjoong. Searching for something, Hongjoong’s eyes spot his notebook and ballpoint pen. That’s it! 

After quickly saving his document on his new laptop, Hongjoong hurries to the spare bedroom upstairs and looks through the desk drawers. 

“I don’t know why I only have this idea now.” He murmurs to himself as he walks downstairs again where Daya is waiting with a tilted head. 

Hongjoong crouches down in front of her and lays the paper and crayons on the ground. “How about you draw something while I work? And when I’m done we can play with the car?” 

Nothing happens for a moment but then the blue crayon hovers above the paper and presses down to draw clumsy lines. 

Hongjoong is quite proud of himself for having such a good idea - again if he might add - and Seonghwa tells him so as well when he comes home, tired but with a smile on his face when he sees pictures of suns in the blue sky scattered all over the living room floor. 

“You told me ghosts don’t sleep but why do I feel like this one does?” Hongjoong whispers a few hours later when he’s leaning against Seonghwa’s side. He points at the recent picture the kid was drawing when his husband shoots him a questioning look. Just a few seconds ago he watched the green crayon paint the grass at the bottom of the paper but now it floats above the picture in a strange way. Like someone still clutches the pen in their hand in their sleep. Hongjoong doesn’t know what the ghost looks like - he doesn’t even know if it’s a boy or a girl - but he can picture the scene in front of his eyes perfectly. The child asleep with their head on the drawing while Daya lays protectively by their side. 

“I never met another ghost. It could be possibly.” Seonghwa whispers back. “We should ask Eden.”

“He’s goes on vacation tomorrow. Which is why I had to finish the draft today.” Hongjoong yawns and stretches himself.

“Then we ask him when he comes back.” Seonghwa stands up and pulls Hongjoong up with him. “No sleeping on the couch.” 

Hongjoong whines but doesn’t complain when he’s half dragged to their bedroom in his sleepy state. “Night, Daya. Night, kiddo.” Seonghwa softly says before he shuts off the lights. 

…

“Pretty sure it’s a boy.” 

Hongjoong blinks slowly at Seonghwa, spoonful of ice cream halfway to his mouth. He has no idea what the other is talking about. 

“When I cleaned the spare room earlier I found something interesting.” Seonghwa takes his husband’s wrist and leads the spoon into his mouth before the ice cream drops on the table. The spare bedroom seems to be the ghost’s self-proclaimed room. The kid spends time there when neither Seonghwa nor Hongjoong have time for him or when they’re not at home. The walls are decorated with different drawings the ghost made in the last few days and the missing plushies appeared again on the bed, neatly tucked under the blanket. 

“What did you find?” Hongjoong asks while he stirs the ice cream in his cup so it becomes all smooth and soft - the perfect texture. There is a bunch of elementary school kids entering the ice cream parlor, laughing and talking in loud voices as they walk to the display. 

Seonghwa pulls out a rolled sheet of paper from his bag and lays it on the table, smoothing down the edges so Hongjoong can easily see the green grass and light blue sky with a sun smiling down at three persons and a dog. 

“This is me.” Seonghwa points at the tallest person with dark hair. “This is you.” His finger gently taps on the spot where a smaller man is drawn. “And I guess this is the child.” His finger wanders to the person that’s barely half the size of the others. It’s obviously a child and the clothing and short hair indicate that it might be a boy. On the drawing, the kid stands between Seonghwa and Hongjoong and holds their hands while the dog sits to their feet. They all have huge smiles on their face - even the dog. 

“This is so cute, I feel like crying.” Hongjoong’s eyes burn with unspilled tears. “Hwa, we have to help him.” 

“If we only knew what happened to him…” 

…

…

…

“Moana or Frozen?” Seonghwa holds up both DVDs and looks down to the spot next to Daya. He feels the cold come closer until there’s a chilly feather-like touch on his right wrist. He knows it’s not a real touch, more like tiny ghostly fingers reaching for him but not being able to really grab. “Moana it is then.” They watched both movies several times by now so it’s no surprise that Hongjoong and he are able to sing along to every song. 

Seonghwa remembered how save and comfortable it made him feel when Hongjoong pretended he was a normal human being instead of an invisible ghost so they decided to do the same for the child. The cold that doesn’t seem to leave their sides tells them that they’re doing a good job.

It’s been a few weeks - seriously, how long is Eden on vacation? - and they avoided having anyone over so far. Instead they visited their friends and made sure to not go home too late so they’re able to read a bedtime story for the kid every evening.

Seonghwa doesn’t remember when he first noticed the cold snuggling between him and his husband every other night but he’s not complaining and neither is Hongjoong. They murmur a few soft words and fall asleep. 

…

“Kim Hongjoong, put that needle down right this instance.” 

Hongjoong jolts and lowers the needle with a guilty look on his face. “It worked with you.”

They stare at each other for a solid minute until Hongjoong bites his bottom lip and looks away. 

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to do this in front of the child, darling.” Seonghwa hugs the other from behind. 

“It’s just--” Hongjoong sighs and leans back in the embrace. “Touch is so important. And Eden said maybe the blood helped you come alive again.”

“Eden also said that he’s never seen this happening before and that he’s not sure.” Seonghwa props his chin on the top of Hongjoong’s head and watches the ghost playing fetching with Daya in the hallway. “And to be honest, I think something other was more important.”

“Hm? What?” Hongjoong tries to turn around but Seonghwa tightens his arms around him. 

After pressing a soft kiss to his husband’s temple, Seonghwa murmurs against the other’s skin. “That I love you and you love me.”

And maybe it’s as easy as it sounds. 

They don’t try the blood in the end because they don’t want to freak the kid out. What they do, however, is sitting by the ghost’s bed in the evening and reading him stories or singing lullabies. He still crawls into their bed at some point in the night, followed by Daya who is practically glued to the kid’s side. 

The first time the ghost writes is on a rainy day in late autumn. It’s clumsy handwriting, some letters are mirror-inverted and shaky while others look already more practiced. Seonghwa watches as the pen slowly moves across the paper, frozen on his spot where he was about to put the clean dishes away. 

“Hongjoong!” He whisper-shouts, head turned to the open window but eyes not leaving the drawing. The other enters the house through the patio door quietly, Daya still running around outside. 

Seonghwa points at the table and together they watch one word after the other being written. 

When the child is done, the pen drops to the tabletop and a moment later Daya barks in joy. 

Carefully, Seonghwa takes the paper and reads. “Jongho.” 

“Is that his name?” Hongjoong peeks at the drawing as well. “It’s written under the small person.” 

Seonghwa doesn’t answer. He can’t. Not when his eyes are fixated on the word written between the persons that resemble him and Hongjoong. His husband seems to finally read it as well. 

_Papa?_

Seonghwa’s breath hitches and the first tears fall. 

…

“Jongho, please put your toys away.” 

The kid ignores him and continues to throw Daya’s ball across the room. 

“If you tidy up now we watch The Lion King later.” 

The ball halts in the air.

“Hm?”

The ball is slowly lowered to the ground and soon enough the Lego pieces float into the box in the corner of the room. 

Seonghwa nods in approvement and wipes down every surface in the room. Hongjoong is still out to pick Mingi and Yunho up so he has enough time left to clean the room before they arrive. It’s the first time they have guests over since Jongho is here with them and he’s mildly concerned. 

They talked to the kid beforehand and tried to explain why he can’t play as freely as usually when their friends are over. Of course, they have no clue if Jongho understood what they were asking of him. 

The doorbell rings too soon.

“Okay, Jongho, no toys this afternoon and only playing with Daya, okay? We play the entire day tomorrow instead.” Seonghwa repeats before he makes his way to the front door, looking back in the perfectly cleaned room one last time. 

“Hyung!” Wooyoung falls into the hallway with open arms that sling around Seonghwa’s neck as soon as the door is opened properly. 

“You’re early.” Seonghwa rolls his eyes fondly and greets their neighbors. There’s an unknown person hovering behind Yeosang. That must be the infamous San Seonghwa already heard lots about. 

“Nice to meet you.” He extends his hand and San takes it with a grin. There’s a glint in his eyes Seonghwa can’t place but the other doesn’t look like he means any bad so he doesn’t dwell on it.

Three hours later and the small group is sitting in the living room. Mingi, Hongjoong and San are deep into a discussion about which movie they should watch next at the cinema while Wooyoung and Yunho coo at Daya and pet her fur. 

“So… What’s up with you and San?” Seonghwa asks when he and Yeosang go into the kitchen to prepare dinner - read: Seonghwa cooks and Yeosang gives useless advice but is still a great company. 

“Ah, hyung.” Yeosang tries to wave him off but Seonghwa lightly jabs the chopsticks he uses for cooking into his friend’s side. “That hurt!” The other complains promptly, reaction far over the top.

“I asked a question.”

“It’s uhm--” Yeosang fumbles with one of the pots on stove while Seonghwa cuts vegetables. “We are dating?”

“Is that a question?” Seonghwa raises an eyebrow at his friend, proceeding cutting without looking. 

“No, it’s a statement.”

“Good. I like him, I hope it’ll work out and now give me the pan, please.”

Yeosang stares at him with wide eyes for a few seconds before he smiles and does as Seonghwa asked. “I thought you would ask how this is supposed to work with three persons.”

“As long as you guys are happy, I don’t worry about details like these.” Seonghwa shrugs and they change the topic. 

When the sun already set and every stomach is pleasantly full, they gather in the living room again and talk. Yunho is currently retelling the story of him and Mingi participating in the musical production of their high school with Hongjoong throwing in one or two remarks when Seonghwa sees the red toy car floating behind his friend’s backs. 

He squeezes his eyes shut and curses internally. The others were supposed to be on their way home already but Wooyoung got a bottle of wine from next door and no one noticed the time passing. Jongho is obviously done staying quiet. 

The car rolls across the floor before Seonghwa is able to do anything about it and hits the table leg next to Yeosang who thankfully doesn’t notice. Seonghwa lets out the breath he was holding but chokes when his eyes meet San’s. There’s this glint again. The other smiles and discreetly takes the car in his hand and pushes it back in the direction it came from, winking at Seonghwa in the process. 

Okay, that’s-- That’s definitely something he has to talk about with Hongjoong. Is San able to see Jongho? 

…

When it’s close to midnight and they say goodbye at the front door, San lingers for a bit longer. “He looks happy.” 

“So you _do_ see him.” Seonghwa whispers back and Hongjoong looks back and forth between his husband and their new friend with confusion obvious on his face. 

San nods with a grin and turns to look at Yeosang and Wooyoung when they call for him from the sidewalk. 

“Do you know what happened to him?” Seonghwa asks before the other is able to leave. 

“I’ll see what I can find about him.” San assures before he walks off with a small wave of his hand and jumps on Wooyoung’s back while Yeosang pulls his boyfriends to the house next door. 

“I’ll explain later.” Seonghwa whispers when they go back inside. First, they have to bring Jongho to bed because he’s obviously over his sleep time. The toy car flies in circles without stopping. 

“Jongho-yah, bedtime.” Hongjoong takes the car from the ghost’s hands. “How about you go upstairs and choose two stories to read?” 

Silence and then a loud thud coming from the child’s room. 

“San can see him?” Hongjoong whispers in a strangely high pitched voice so Seonghwa explains what happened a few hours ago as fast as he can before one of Jongho’s books floats downstairs and nudges their legs impatiently. 

…

“Do you think he can help us?” Hongjoong wonders aloud when he’s laying half on top of Seonghwa that night. 

“I hope so.” He threads his fingers through so other’s hair and Hongjoong sighs contently. “But even if not… He’s still our Jongho.” 

“Right.” Seonghwa feels Hongjoong smile against the skin of his neck. 

The door slowly opens a few minutes later and the familiar cold crawls into their bed. Hongjoong rolls off of Seonghwa and scoots over to the side so Jongho can lay down between them. 

“Do you not want to sleep alone tonight?” Seonghwa asks in a soft voice, his hand hovering above the spot where the cold ends near his shoulder. Jongho’s head must be there. Oh how he wishes he could pull the kid in his arms and tell him he’s safe here and everything will be alright. 

“It’s okay.” Hongjoong adjusts the covers and they lock eyes. Seonghwa doesn’t know if he’s talking to him or the kid but he smiles nonetheless. “Let’s sleep now. I’m really tired.”

Seonghwa chuckles at the way Hongjoong almost discolates his jaw while yawning. He’s suddenly hit with so much warmth and softness, it makes him tear up a bit. Hongjoong is already drifting off to dreamland when Seonghwa remembers everything he’s gone through, everything he suffered through and all the love Hongjoong gave him unconditionally, every fond memory they share together.

“I don’t know why you came here, Jongho, but you chose the right place to be.” He murmurs in the darkness, not even sure if the child is still awake. “We’re so glad you’re with us. I hope you know that we love you lots.” 

…

“Wake up! Come on! Wake up! I’m hungry!” 

There’s something hard digging into Seonghwa’s stomach. His eyes fly open in time to see someone dropping down on Hongjoong with a loud squeal. 

“Hungry!” The little person shouts again. 

“Jongho?” Hongjoong’s voice is still scratchy from sleep. The kid sits up on Hongjoong’s stomach with an adorable pout on his face.

Nothing happens for a moment.

“How about you both go to the bathroom and I prepare breakfast?” Seonghwa acts on autopilot when he gets up from the bed and watches Jongho run to the bathroom while he shouts for Hongjoong to follow him. Daya is already barking in excitement when they hear water running. 

“So no blood, huh?” Hongjoong’s wide eyes meet Seonghwa’s. 

…

Turns out explaining to their friend group why they adopted a child all of a sudden is a bit more difficult than explaining that Hongjoong randomly meeting Seonghwa in a park. Thankfully, San is all excited and positive and shuts the others up before they can ask too many questions. 

It took a few weeks before Eden was able to get official papers for Jongho - needless to say he was really surprised when he came back from vacation and was hit in the face with a ball as soon as he entered their house.

Even though Jongho came back to life, San kept his promise to search for information about the kid. That’s the reason why he discreetly pulls Seonghwa and Hongjoong aside while his boyfriends play a card game with Jongho one afternoon.

“It wasn’t that difficult to find out what happened once I asked the right people.” He hands them a dossier with a sad smile. “Maybe you should read that when he’s asleep.” 

“Thanks a lot, San.” Hongjoong pulls him into a quick hug and they return to the living room where Yeosang and Jongho teamed up against Wooyoung in a furious match of Uno. 

…

Jongho is still asleep the next morning but the dossier lays still untouched on the kitchen table. 

“I’m a bit afraid.” Hongjoong confesses, his fingers stroking the tabletop. 

Seonghwa takes Hongjoong’s hand in his. “We don’t have to open it. We can put it away or burn it. It doesn’t matter. He’s happy now and so are we.”

But his husband shakes his head. “I have to know.”

Police reports, several witness statements, articles from the newspaper, statements from Jongho’s parents. It takes some time to read everything, mostly because tears of anger and sadness cloud their vision and make it hard to make out the words on those papers. 

Jongho ran away from home 50 years ago. He was six years old back than but he had to endure so much in his short life that it became unbearable and he fled. His father was an alcoholic and hit his son on an almost daily basis while his mother looked away or even cursed at the kid for destroying their lives. 

He was an unwanted child, an accident they couldn’t get rid of legally. 

So he ran away in the middle of the night, not looking where he went. 

He didn’t notice the rails under his sock clad feet, didn’t hear the train coming closer until it was too late. 

Seonghwa closes his eyes and covers his face with both hands while Hongjoong pulls out a handwritten letter from San. 

“As per San’s research Jongho’s ghost wandered around a lot. Our house was not the first he came into but he always left the others after some time.” A pause. “Do you think he searched for a new family that loves him and now that he found us his wish came true?”

Seonghwa sobs, his body shaking even when Hongjoong hugs him gently. 

“Papa, are you okay?” Jongho’s quiet voice suddenly rings out behind them. Hongjoong scrambles to put the papers away while Seonghwa pulls their child into his arms and kisses all over his face. Jongho giggles and pecks Seonghwa’s cheek, scrunching his nose cutely afterwards. “Appa too!” He reaches out for Hongjoong who joins their embrace without hesitating, planting a loud smoosh against Jongho’s soft hair. 

…

They burn the dossier later when Jongho is out to play with one of his friends he met at school. They don’t talk about it again. The past is gone and it doesn’t matter anymore. 

They are a family now and it’s not important how that happened in the end.

Maybe it was a wish so strong to make the dead come alive again.

Maybe it were love and fairy dust, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it. The story is over and I'm in tears. Thanks a lot to everyone who read this far! Also special thanks and hug to everyone that took their time to leave a comment and/ or kudos! 
> 
> I'm thinking about writing a short sequel for Woosangsan. Would you be interested in that? Let me know!
> 
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/neomuyoo)


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